


Empty Room

by ultimmaGothicca



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Mystery, Purple Prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:54:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4457327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultimmaGothicca/pseuds/ultimmaGothicca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mello's thoughts on a lonely train station and being cast aside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empty Room

**Author's Note:**

> So, there isn't much going on over here. I might make this into a drabble section. It's my first time posting so please forgive me. And English isn't my main language. Basically, it's Mello being melodramatic. I put it on a more serious note for good measure.

It is a lonely night. That's all how I see it. I am lost inside a shitty train station, all alone in a middle of nowhere in a third world country. I couldn't even muster the strength to be mad, even if I'm out of chocolate which is a surprise even for me. Perhaps I'm too tired from a low class mission that bored me more than sleeping. Perhaps, it is just too cold that I had to pull my jacket tighter even though there's no snow. 

 

The train sure took its time, as expected of a public transportation from this area. I was alone save for two women meters away from me. I leaned, looking over the streets below me as a few cars raced towards the traffic lights. This place sure is isolated, huh. I felt squeamish at that, because I've never been this alone before. There's something about the atmosphere that's too melancholic for my taste, it's almost choking. I looked up and saw windows of the buildings parallel to my view. Shut curtains, closed lights, and cold bars. Almost like a bird cage. 

 

It was then I realized that directly in front of me is a dilapidated house. It is unoccupied, because when I turned my gaze downwards, the flimsy wooden doors were vandalized and nailed shut. The room of that house was just in front of me, a few meters, even closer than the other passengers waiting for the train. 

 

That room was empty, and miserably so. The city lights illuminated the chipped off paint from its walls, a dark gloomy aura surrounding it just like an Edgar Allan Poe scenario. It had jalousie windows, but a few of the glass where either knocked up or removed, and it was open wide that I almost expect a creature to peek out and stare right back at me. My blue eyes narrowed, and I scoff at my own wild imagination. Oh how the boredom gets to me sometimes. 

 

But it was an empty room and I wonder what people used to live there. How does it look like in its youthful glory? What did the silent witnesses saw from them? 

 

Do people who lived there fought all the time? Or were they a small happy family living their lives simply to make the ends meet? Did those walls witness tears? Sadness? Anger? Joy? Did the children used to look out the windows and dream of the future?.

It's a tiny room and it frightens me. I can almost imagine ghosts that lurk in that abandoned area, and that's not even the scariest part. It looks unassuming, but at the same time I can feel the bitterness of it, as if asking "Why did you forget about me?" 

 

Somehow, I can almost imagine myself in that room, hiding beneath the shadows, wanting to be swallowed whole by the darkness that consumes the others. It makes my heart thump and sink as I realize that perhaps, my fate will not be much different than a boring, broken and depressing room. 

 

Perhaps, what touched me the most is that I know I'll be forgotten and yet I walk on, and on, and on. Until my paint chips from wear and until my brain constricts to forbid anyone from getting closer. It's such a shame to be left behind, like that room and myself, but I know that one day, some day, everything and everyone will be cast aside once they lived out their usefulness... 

 

Like that room, like myself, and like everyone else. 

 

I smirked and swallowed down the bitterness before looking away and running towards the closing door of the old train. 

 

I will be forgotten, but hopefully not today.


End file.
